


Hand in Hand, We Make Our Way to The End

by thethirdphiladelphiavireo



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, can you tell i got super lazy, don't mind me, obligatory soulmate au, redemption arc for catra 2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethirdphiladelphiavireo/pseuds/thethirdphiladelphiavireo
Summary: “Woah,” she breathed, lowering her hand from her eyes and leaning forward. “Your mark, it’s-”“The same as yours,” Adora finished the sentence. The two locked eyes.“What do you think it means?” Catra asked, tracing a claw along the design on her friend’s hand.Growing up in the Horde, Adora and Catra never learned about soulmates. When the truth of their relationship is revealed, they fail to communicate like mature humans.





	Hand in Hand, We Make Our Way to The End

In the Horde, from the moment every child recruit was born, their right palm was wrapped in grimy bandages, hiding the mark underneath. Each recruit would only ever know what their own was like. 

 

Catra remembered well how those bandages itched and chafed at the tender skin beneath. She remembered how she would try and chew through the tight wrap with her fangs, tucked away in some dark corner. 

 

She remembered how Shadow Weaver would always find her anyways. 

 

Adora would never pick at her bandages.

 

As they got older and started their training proper, they graduated from bandages to fingerless grey gloves. The only time they were allowed to remove them was in the privacy of a shower stall. 

 

These Catra could handle with a little bit of griping. The glove still felt unnatural and made her palm sweaty, but it was looser than the bandages and gave decent traction for climbing.

 

Adora once more took the glove without complaint. But she began to spend long minutes in the shower examining the symbol on her palm as the cold water drizzled over her back. The symbol of an odd sword that seemed both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

 

In the Horde, not only was removing the glove forbidden, it was incredibly taboo. Being required to cover up that hand from birth, wearing a glove felt like wearing pants or a shirt. You wouldn’t just waltz out of your room without one on.

 

In her entire time at the Horde, there was only one glove-related scandal that Adora could remember.

 

Of course, it involved Catra.

 

It happened during some training exercise or another. Somehow, Catra had sliced open her hand, blood rolling down her arm in rivulets as she gingerly examined the wound. Her glove lay in shreds at her feet.

 

Adora, without a second thought, rushed over and began fussing over her friend, oblivious to the way other recruits averted their eyes in embarrassment, or how Catra blushed under her friend’s gaze. 

 

“C’mon, Catra, let me look at the bleeding,” she insisted, reaching out her own hand. 

 

Catra stubbornly shook her head, holding her wounded palm to her chest.

 

Adora frowned in disapproval and lunged forward, grabbing at her friend’s wrist. Besides an indignant growl, Catra swallowed her protests and let Adora unfurl her palm to examine the cut.

 

Strange, she thought, gently moving the hand closer to her face. Catra had the same mark as she did.

 

That was as far as Catra’s little checkup went. Shadow Weaver burst into the room a heartbeat later and shoved her away from Adora, hissing about her shamelessness. She herded Catra out of the room as fast as she could, away from the prying eyes of the others. 

 

Adora looked helplessly after them. She dutifully picked up the torn glove resting innocently on the ground and shoved it into her pocket. Funny how something so small could cause such a ruckus. 

 

Catra finally rejoined the group at dinner. She was quieter than usual, picking at the food on her tray. A new glove was on her hand, dark and fresh. The other recruits admired it with envy, comparing it to their old faded ones. 

 

Adora was quiet too, lost in her thoughts. Seeing the other girl’s mark had only whetted her curiosity towards her own. What could they mean?

 

Later that night she pulled Catra aside into the bathroom, ignoring her friend’s whispered confusion. She dragged her into a stall, carefully listening for the sound of footsteps or the door opening behind them. 

 

“What the hell, Adora?” Catra hissed, ears flattened against her head. Adora raised a finger to her lips, crouching to look to see if there were feet in any of the other stalls. Once she was satisfied they were alone, she stood to face her.

 

“Sorry, but I need to show you something and I didn’t want anyone else around.”

 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “So your best plan was to kidnap me into the bathroom?”

 

“Listen, I panicked okay!”

 

“Whatever, what was so important that we had to be alone?”

 

Adora bit her lip nervously. “Just don’t be weird or anything.”

 

“Why would I b- Woah, Adora, what the fuck?”

 

The girl in question had ripped off her glove, baring her hand for the whole world to see. She narrowed her eyes at Catra, flushed. “Just be quiet and look!”   
  
Catra had covered her eyes the second she’d realized what Adora had done. Sheepishly, she peeked through her fingers, eyes darting down to appease her friend’s strange request. Her eyes widened as they landed on the girl’s palm.

 

“Woah,” she breathed, lowering her hand from her eyes and leaning forward. “Your mark, it’s-”   
  
“The same as yours,” Adora finished the sentence. The two locked eyes.

 

“What do you think it means?” Catra asked, tracing a claw along the design on her friend’s hand.

 

Adora shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe everyone has the same mark.”

 

“Maybe it’s like a brand they give us or something. Y’know, ‘property of the Horde’.”

 

“Ri-ight.” 

 

“I mean, do you have a better idea?”

 

“...” 

 

Catra smiled triumphantly, fangs glinting in the bathroom’s low light. “That’s what I though-”

 

Suddenly, Adora’s hand shot out to cover Catra’s mouth, who sputtered indignantly. Adora angrily raised a finger to her lips, jerking her head in the direction of the door. That was when Catra sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, hearing the footsteps outside the stall for the first time. The bathroom door closed with a  _ thump  _ the next moment. 

 

The next few minutes were silent, save for the sounds of the unknown intruder shuffling around and of water rushing out of a faucet. Adora’s eyes were shut in silent prayer that whoever was out there wouldn’t notice the two pairs of feet in the stall. Someone grasped her shoulder and they shot open in surprise. It was just Catra, her eyebrows knit together in silent concentration, her hand resting comfortingly on Adora’s shoulder. Catra’s hand… Catra, who Adora realized was much closer than she’d noticed, penned in by the tiny stall. For some reason, Adora felt herself growing hot under her red jacket, wishing she could step back but not wanting to give away their position. 

 

Finally, the bathroom door swung open and shut again, the sounds of footsteps growing distant. Both girls let out a sigh of relief. Adora tugged her glove back on and stumbled out of the stall, eager for the fresh air and the regained personal space. Catra sauntered out after her, smoothing her uniform. 

 

That was the last time they talked about the marks on their hands. Adora’s curiosity waned. She didn’t shoot Catra’s gloved hand furtive looks. She didn’t think about what was on the other trainees’ palms. She stopped staring at her own when she showered. She accepted that the mystery of the marks would simply remain unsolved. 

 

That night, as she shrugged off her jacket to go sleep, she realized she still had the remains of Catra’s old glove in her pocket. For reasons she couldn’t articulate if someone had asked, she decided to leave it where it was.

 

Adora learned about soulmates after she met Glimmer and Bow.

 

It had already been a bizarre adventure, finding a sword identical to the one on her palm, having weird visions, and sneaking out to find it again. Now she had to deal with a princess?

 

One of the first thing she noticed was that Bow didn’t wear a glove at all. But what else could she expect from these weird people, with their weird words and their weird customs? It seemed just about it line with the way his chestplate exposed his midriff (seriously, doesn’t that defeat the point of the armour?)

 

The next thing she noticed was that he, too, had a mark. Those weren’t exclusive to the Horde. But it was different from hers. His was some sort of scepter ringed by a heart like the one on his chest. 

 

Glimmer, to her credit, at least wore a long pair of gloves. But as Adora would later discover while acclimating to the new culture she’d been submerged in, that wasn’t the custom. She was surrounded by gloveless people.

 

She pretty quickly adjusted to seeing bare right hands. She didn’t avert her eyes in embarrassment at the sight, at least. On the contrary, she became a bit of a mark-watcher, noticing how everyone she met seemed to have one completely unique to them.

 

She continued to cover her own out of habit, though she figured she probably looked silly to these people walking around with a single glove. No one ever asked anyway.

 

One day after an especially hard mission, the trio stumbled into Adora’s room, grimy and bruised. Glimmer heaved a deep sigh, yanking off her gloves and flopped onto the bed. Adora sat next her, only half-listening to the conversation the other to were having. She was too busy trying to sneak a look at the princess’ right palm.

 

“Uh… Adora?” Glimmer’s voice floated by her head.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Any particular reason you’re staring at my arm right now?”

 

“I-I wasn’t staring,” Adora stammered, jerking her gaze up to the princess’ face.

 

“O-okay. Well, we stopped talking for like, thirty seconds without you noticing,” Bow piped up. “And you didn’t once stop looking. I think you were staring. And pretty intently.”

 

Adora sighed. She had been more obvious than she’d meant to be. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you without your gloves before.”

 

Glimmer frowned, then lit up in understanding.“Oh! Are you looking at my mark?”

 

Adora nodded. 

 

The princess sat up, bringing her palm closer to Adora so she could have a better look. 

 

“It’s the same as Bow’s?...” The latter murmured, confused.

 

“Yep!” Glimmer chirped. “We’re soulmates!” She turned to Bow and gave him a high five. 

 

“Huh?”

 

Glimmer and Bow’s faces faltered. 

 

“Y’know,” Glimmer started, fidgeting with her hands. “Soulmates, a destined match, perfect for each other, two peas in a pod?”

 

Adora blinked blankly back at her.

 

Bow raised his hands to his mouth with a choked whimper. “Are you telling me you don’t have soulmates in the Horde?” 

 

“Nope.”

 

Bow looked like he was about to cry. Glimmer’s mouth was pressed into a hard line. “Figures.”

 

Adora cocked her head. “So what’s this ‘soulmate’ business all about anyways?”

 

Glimmer cleared her throat. “Well, pretty much everyone is born with a mark as you know. In the whole entire world, there is only one other person with the same mark as you. That’s your soulmate. Basically, they’re the person that has the most significance in your life. They’re the person who understands you and loves you like no one else. You complete each other in a sense, like puzzle pieces. And the universe has marked you two as being made for each other. Most of the time, soulmates are lovers. But sometimes soulmates are best friends, like me and Bow, or siblings or whatever. Some people don’t have a soulmate. Some people have more than one. And some people never meet theirs… Adora, are you feeling okay?”

 

The answer was no. No, Adora was definitely not okay. She felt like she was going to be sick. Her gaze was trained on the floor, insides squirming in her  stomach, heart rattling her ribcage. Her head was swimming with memories of that damn training exercise, of Catra’s blood, and the gut instinct to help her, propriety be damned.

 

“Adora?” Glimmer pressed again, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I think I need to be alone for a bit, guys.”

 

Glimmer and Bow traded a worried look.

 

“Please?”

 

Bow raised his hands. “Alright. But we’re talking about this later, right?”

 

Adora smiled tightly. “It’s just a lot to take in at once. I mean, to learn there’s this whole part of life that I had no idea about. But yeah, we can talk later.”

 

Glimmer and Bow left without further protest, though each cast their fair share of hesitant glances over their shoulders. Adora waved as they shut the door behind them. 

 

Once alone, she threw herself onto her bed, letting out a frustrated sigh. She grabbed at her head, wishing it would just stop whirring. What did it all mean? Catra had been her friend, once. But the way things were between them now? Soulmates? 

 

The exhaustion of the day was catching up with her. She flipped on her back, sore muscles groaning at the motion. Almost unconsciously, her hand went to her jacket pocket, closing around what she’d stashed there what seemed like an eternity ago. Catra’s old glove. Somehow, it quieted her thoughts, letting her relax her tensed shoulders and take a deep breath. The very next moment she was sound asleep.

  
  


Catra learned about soulmates from talking to Scorpia. The other woman had never worn a glove in the entire time that Catra had known her. No one dared say anything about it, at least, nothing to her face. Yet a sense of scandal permeated the general opinion of Scorpia. 

 

As for Catra? Well, she didn’t give a shit. Scorpia was at least someone she could count on to have her back. But that’s not to say she wasn’t curious.

 

“Why don’t you have to wear glove?” she asked one day as the two of them were taking a well-deserved break, lounging around the barracks.

 

Scorpia shrugged. “I guess it’s cause I don’t have a soulmate.”

 

Catra furrowed her brow. “Huh? What’s that?”

 

“You don’t know?”

 

Catra shook her head.

 

“Well, come to think of it, I haven’t heard any talk about them since I joined the Horde. I learned about them back before I came here.”

 

“So-o, what are they?”

 

Scorpia scratched her head with a giant claw. “Basically, most people have those marks on their hands, right?”

 

Nod.

 

“So, everyone has their own marking that’s totally unique to them-”

 

“That’s not true!” Catra rolled her eyes. “I have the exact same mark as… Someone else I know.”

 

“As I was saying,” Scorpia continued. “Everyone has their own marking unique to them and their soulmate.”

 

Silence. 

 

“So, I guess you’ve already found your soulmate?”

 

“But what does that mean?”

 

“I mean, if you follow tradition, a soulmate is the person you care about the most in world. They’re your biggest weakness, someone you’ll put above anything else. I’m guessing that why you guys aren’t supposed to take off those gloves- they don’t want anyone finding their soulmate.”

 

Catra’s hair was standing on end. She bared her fangs involuntarily, tail lashing. Adora? Her… soulmate? That traitor? Who’d tossed her out like a broken weapon, without a second thought?

 

Scorpia had the good sense to keep quiet, carefully watching her. 

 

Catra whirled around. “Never,” she snarled. “Ever repeat this conversation. To anyone.” She didn’t wait for Scorpia to answer before storming out of the room, going to let off some steam training. 

  
  


The next time Adora saw Catra she was so distracted she almost died.

 

It was during a battle, because of course it was. The Horde had really pulled out all stops for this one. The sheer volume of tanks and foot soldiers was a challenge it and of itself, even for the combined power of the princesses. 

 

One minute, She-Ra was cutting through the enemy’s ranks, slicing through cannons like butter. The next she’d been knocked off her feet by a blow from out of nowhere.

 

“Hey Adora.”

 

She-Ra rose, casting a severe look behind her. Of course. “Catra.”

 

“How terse! Not even a greeting for little old me?”

 

She-Ra maintained a stony silence, raising her sword. She had sworn to herself she wouldn’t allow her… revelation to affect her in battle. Even though she longed to try yet again to talk to Catra, to try and make her see the truth, she couldn’t. She had a duty. 

 

“Damn, alright then.” Catra stalked towards Adora, claws bared at her sides. “I’ve been looking for you this whole battle, you know. Might at least give me a good fight for the trouble!” She lunged and She-Ra threw herself out of the way, swinging her sword at the spot where she’d been.

 

“Ooh! Quicker than you look,” Catra quipped as she danced just out of the blow’s reach. She kicked up a cloud of dirt with a bare foot, sending gravel and and dust straight into Adora’s face, who coughed and shut her eyes instinctively. The next second she was doubled over from a kick to her gut, growling in frustration. She blindly stabbed at the air as Catra’s laugh echoed around her.

 

“Tsk, tsk, Adora. I think Bright Moon life has made you soft. But I guess that’s all the better for me.”

 

She-Ra straightened, wiping her eyes. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Fine. If Catra wanted a fight, she’d get one. 

 

She-Ra hefted her sword and shot a blast of energy Catra’s way, who easily jumped aside. She shot again, and again, and again, chasing the other in circles around the battlefield. 

 

“C’mon, Adora. You’ve got to do better than that.” Catra landed on an upturned tank, perched on all fours. 

 

She-Ra narrowed her eyes and fired again, hitting the bottom of the tank, far from Catra’s claws. Her enemy laughed. “Are you kidding me? Were you even aiming at m-”   
  
The girl was cut off by the tank exploding, sending her flying in a burst of fire and shrapnel. She-Ra turned her sword to a shield, covering herself from the falling debris. 

 

Catra slammed into the ground, wheezing at the impact. Burning pieces of shredded metal rained down on her back, searing through her clothing and leaving tiny, hissing wounds. She’d barely raised her head when She-ra charged forward, sword back in hand. She bore down on Catra, trying to pin her with the sword’s blade. Catra snarled and kicked at the sword’s hilt, hitting it out of Adora’s hands. She surged forward, knocking the other off her feet and sending both of them tumbling into the battle-scarred dirt, each vying for control.

 

The two wrestled back and forth, kicking and clawing and biting. She-Ra tried to reach for the sword but was too far away to grab it before being pinned down by Catra . She writhed and grunted under her enemy’s grip, barely managing to shake her off. Catra’s eyes widened as Adora flipped their positions. She struggled against She-Ra’s grasp, but her aching muscles protested the motion. Towering over the other girl, She-Ra raised her gloved hand and struck Catra squarely in the jaw. Catra’s head snapped back, ears ringing and mouth tasting of metal. She was barely aware of Adora’s weight being lifted off her chest as the princess rose to reclaim her sword. 

 

She-Ra, satisfied to have her weapon in hand, whirled around, expecting to see Catra back on her feet. 

 

Instead, she saw her friend in a crumpled heap on the ground, eyes unfocused and blood trickling out of her mouth.

 

Adora’s stomach dropped, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. Her vision tunnelled, ignoring everything but the prone figure in front of her.

 

Without her even realizing it, Adora’s She-Ra transformation dropped. She rushed to Catra’s side, lowering herself in a kneel. Her hand hovered helplessly over the battered body, unsure of how to help. 

 

“Catra,” she breathed, mentally berating herself for what she’d done. Their fights had gotten rough in the past, yes, but she’d never seen her friend like this.

 

The other girl’s head lolled over, seemingly barely conscious. She coughed weakly. “Adora?”

 

“Sh, sh,” Adora insisted, threading a hand in Catra’s hair. “Save your strength. We’re gonna get you help.” 

 

Her eyes scanned the battlefield desperately, looking for someone, anyone that could help. Her mind was stuck in that old panic she’d felt every time Catra got hurt back when she’d been at the Horde. Enemies or teammates, it seemed like a habit she couldn’t shake.

 

Catra’s eyes squeezed shut in pain. Her head was pounding, stomach roiling at the stench of blood and dust. She forced them open again, focusing on the worried ridge of Adora’s pinched brow above her. A look she knew very well, came the distant thought. She felt almost like she was floating in empty space, and the only thing grounding her to reality was the sensation of Adora’s hand smoothing over her hair.“Adora,” she rasped again, a lump rising in her throat. 

 

Adora leaned forward. She wanted to say something, she didn’t know what, but  she suddenly cried out in pain and collapsed, barely avoiding crushing her friend.

 

Catra flinched at the noise. She shook her head and propped herself on her elbows, gritting her teeth. Across the battlefield, a smoking tank cannon was winding down from firing. She looked at her side to see Adora unconscious, the back of her shirt smoking, nearly reduced to ashes. 

 

“Catra!” A bellowing cry rang out to her right. Scorpia was running towards her, armour torn and dirtied from the fighting. She skidded to halt, scooping Catra limply into her claws. 

 

Catra yelped in pain as her body was roughly jostled in the strong grip. Her vision flickered and dimmed; her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, with Scorpia’s frantic apologies and explanations of retreat barely reaching her brain. The last thing she heard was the battle cry of advancing princesses before she blacked out. 

  
  


Adora awoke a full two days after the battle had ended, dazed and aching. She was tucked into an infirmary bed with clean, blue cotton sheets. A heartbeat later Glimmer and Bow were at her side, fussing and frenzied, until they were shooed away by the nurses. 

 

As bruised as she was physically, even worse was the turmoil over how she’d let her guard down. She’d sworn she wouldn’t be distracted by whatever unavoidable fondness she had for Catra and she’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed. On the other hand… Well, she couldn’t have just left her like that, right? She’d been so vulnerable on the ground like that. And enemy or not, she didn’t want Catra dead. But was that in the best interest of Etheria, or was it just her being blinded by being Catra’s soulmate?

 

Adora was beginning to wish she’d never asked Glimmer about what her mark meant at all. 

  
  


Neither the Horde nor the resistance made a move for a while after that, both recovering from the battle. Adora threw herself into her diplomatic duties at Bright Moon, rallying support for their cause from the farthest-flung corners of their world. It was an absolute hellish whirlwind of meetings, travel, and bureaucracy, all while still recovering from her injuries. Glimmer and Bow tried to get her to rest the best that they could, but Adora stubbornly resisted their efforts. Work at least meant keeping her mind busy, where rest meant only thoughts of Catra and their matching hands. So she was all too happy to work herself so hard that at the end of the day she too exhausted to even dream. Nearly a full month passed without any more worrying about her soulmate.

 

A night came where she couldn’t avoid those thoughts any more. 

 

It had been a normal day, really. Busy as always. They were working on repairing some damages to the castle, nothing too severe. Adora, being able to turn into an eight-foot tall superhumanly strong woman, was an invaluable resource. 

 

Finally, after being up with the sun and working til the stars were out, Adora was happy to tumble into bed. Her eyes had just closed when she heard what sounded like pebbles being thrown at her window. She groaned and rolled over, hoping it would stop. It didn’t. 

 

Grumbling to herself, she got up and started to walk towards the window. It was probably one of her friends trying to get her to participate in some weird late-night adventure. She unlatched it and swung it inwards, yawning. “All right, all right, what it is?” 

 

Suddenly she was bowled off her feet by a dark shape pouncing through the opening. All the air was knocked out of her lungs as she crashed to the floor. Before she could recover enough to yell and hand was over her mouth, muffling her cries. She blinked at the figure in the darkness, glimpsing a familiar pair of mismatched eyes. Of course. She stopped struggling, knowing she was beat. 

 

“If I take my hand off your mouth, do you promise to keep quiet?” 

 

Adora hesitated, then nodded. The weight moved off of her chest, sitting on the floor next to her. Adora groaned and sat up, rubbing her back. “Jeez, could you have been a bit rougher?”

 

“Sorry,” came the whispered reply. “Didn’t know how else to make sure you wouldn’t expose me.”

 

Adora got to her feet. “Mind if I turn on some lights?”

 

“Knock yourself out.”

 

Adora stumbled over to the wall, searching for a lightswitch. She should have been calling for help right now, promise be damned. What on earth would Catra be doing at Bright Moon besides stirring up trouble? But still she kept her mouth shut, flicking on the lights to reveal Catra perched atop her bed. 

 

Adora walked back and sat next to her. “So, what brings you here in the dead of night? Setting bombs? Planning to assassinate me?”

 

Catra shrugged. “Just some routine recon. Wanted to assess the state of the resistance. I mean, their greatest weapon did get pretty beat up a while ago.” Her characteristic drawl was the picture of casual, but her lashing tail betrayed her unease. 

 

Adora narrowed her eyes. “Wait a second.”    
  


“Hm?”

 

“Were you-”

 

“Oh, I know what you’re gonna say-”

 

“By chance-”

 

“Stop.”

 

“Worried about me?”

 

“I was not,” Catra huffed, crossing her arms. 

 

Adora smiled gently. “Well, Miss ‘I’m-Not-Worried’, I’m as good as ever.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Catra frowned leaning closer to the other’s face. “You say that, but now that I can see you clearly, you don’t look great.”

 

Adora shrugged. “It’s been busy around here. Sometimes She-Ra’s gotta pull double duty.”   
  
“Hm.” Catra rose, strolling around the room. “So, this is your setup? Is this how they convinced you to desert?”

 

“Of course not,” Adora replied stiffly. “Look, can you not do this right now? I’m tired.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Quit trying to guilt trip me. I know I made the right choice.”

 

Catra rolled her eyes, holding up her hands. “It was just a question, Adora. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

 

“We both know what you meant.”

 

“I mean, you are a traitor. You can’t deny that.”

 

Adora pinched the bridge of her nose, silent. She couldn’t deal with this right now. For a long minute, neither of them said anything, each looking studiously in the opposite direction of the other.

 

Finally, Catra broke the silence, heaving a great sigh. “Sorry,” she muttered, twiddling her thumbs. 

 

Adora’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

 

“I’m not saying it again.”

 

Adora wasn’t sure how to respond. She studied the other girl’s face, trying to discern what was going through her head.

 

“I don’t really know why I’m here,” Catra continued. Her voice was small in a way Adora hadn’t heard since they were children. Lost, Adora’s brain supplied. She seemed lost. 

 

Wordlessly, she reached out, winding an arm around the other girl’s frame and resting her hand on Catra’s shoulder. Using her thumb she gently rubbed circles into the warm skin beneath. 

 

At first, Catra tensed at the contact. Then, little by little, she melted under the affectionate touch, leaning her head on Adora’s shoulder with a contented purr. It was a scene reminiscent of many others in their childhood, unwinding after a long day of drills and shouting, taking comfort in their own little world. 

 

Adora wished Catra knew what a soulmate was, knew the significance of their bond. Maybe then she’d come to her senses. But she wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Maybe she never would be.

 

The exhaustion of her day was catching up with Adora. Her eyelids slowly drooped, head coming to rest atop Catra’s. Lulled by the rumble of the other girl’s purring and the rhythm of her breathing, Adora drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

 

The next morning, when she awoke, her bed was empty. She was almost inclined to write the whole thing off as a dream, until she saw her window was still open from the night before. 

  
  


The wary armistice between the two sides of the war didn’t last long. It was after their next battle that Catra awoke to find herself in a brightly lit prison cell, lying in a hard bed. Just her luck. She sat up, taking stock of her surroundings. They were pretty plain, all things considered. The cage she was in was enclosed by a larger room, a single door leading in. It was empty except for one chair leaned against the wall across from the iron bars, presumably for someone to come in and interrogate her from.

 

For the next half hour, or maybe half a day, she paced around her tiny cell, running her hands through her hair and trying to figure out where things had gone so catastrophically wrong that she’d ended up not only beaten, but captured. 

 

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice called from the room’s door. 

 

Catra didn’t even turn around, merely grunting in acknowledgement. 

 

“Don’t be like that. I brought food.” Adora walked up to the cell, pushing a metal tray through a slot in the bars. Catra perked up, stomach growling at the smell. She eagerly took the tray from Adora’s hands, picking up the matching spoon and digging in. Adora looked on in amusement. 

 

When the tray was scraped clean, Adora motioned for it, taking it back to be returned to the kitchens. “So, how are you feeling?” She asked Catra, who had begun to groom herself.

 

Catra shrugged. “Like you’d expect from a prisoner of war, I guess.” 

 

“Seriously, Catra. Do you need anything ? Ice, bandages? You just have to ask.”   
  
Catra paused her grooming, examining Adora’s concerned face. “No,” she finally answered. “I’m okay. Really.”

 

Adora smiled. “Good.”

 

The two silently maintained eye contact for a long few moments, each gazing inquisitively at the other’s face. Suddenly, Adora turned her head and cleared her throat, saying something about needing to get to a meeting. She quickly left the room, taking Catra’s dirty dishes with her.

 

Catra watched her go, cheeks warm. She flopped back on her bed, hoping to get some sleep. 

 

Over the next few weeks, it was only Adora taking care of Catra. It was the most time they’d spent together since Adora had left the Horde. Occasionally, things almost started to feel like old times again. They would sit and talk for hours about old memories, or Adora would relay some strange story from her day. In fact, Adora began to bring her own food to eat, sharing a meal with Catra. It reminded them both of their times together in the mess hall after some hard training, voraciously scarfing down food.

 

But in falling into this familiar pattern, both studiously had to ignore all that had changed between them. They had to ignore the iron bars that separated them, two enemies sworn to hate each other.

 

That is, until Adora couldn’t ignore it any longer.

 

“Catra,” she started one night, trying to phrase her words as delicately as possible. “You know that if you would just leave the Horde, I’d find a way to get you out of here right? Out of this cell?”

 

The shift in the air was immediately obvious. Catra stopped mid-chew, staring at Adora unflinchingly Her eyes narrowed.

 

Adora cleared her throat, uncomfortable. She didn’t know what else to say.

 

“I don’t need you trying to convert me, Adora,” Catra hissed. “And here I was thinking you were just here to spend time with me. Of course it all comes back to your agenda.” 

 

Adora straightened defensively. “What? Catra, I’m just giving you the options here.”

 

“You mean leveraging my freedom against me. It’s your way or the highway, as always.” 

  
“Catra,” Adora floundered. “ I-”

 

“It’s not like you give a shit about me. You never have before, you just care about getting ahead. That’s why you dropped me, isn’t it, the second these people started worshipping you like a goddess, the second you got a taste of power-” 

 

“Of course I care about you, C-”

 

“Doesn’t seem like it’.”

 

“I’m your soulmate, Catra! I don’t have much of a choice!” Adora shouted, exasperated.

 

That finally seemed to shut Catra up, wide-eyed and positively bristling. Adora rubbed a hand over her face, leaning against the iron bars of Catra’s cell like she might fall over at any moment. 

 

“I’m your soulmate,” she repeated softly. “I learned about them when I came here. They’re-”

 

“I know what soulmates are,” Catra cut her off for the millionth time. “Scorpia told me about them.”

 

“Then you already knew?”

 

“Yeah.” Her face darkened. “I learned a lot of things.”

 

Adora looked up at Catra’s bitter tone. “Like?”

 

“You’re supposed to love me,” Catra croaked. “More than anything.”

 

“I do,” Adora pleaded desperately, clenching the iron bars. “Since we were kids, you know how much I care about you. You’re the one thing about that place I miss.”

 

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have left,” came the growled response. “You care about this stupid rebellion more than me.”

 

“So what, I was supposed to keep fighting for a cause I didn’t believe in? Hurt innocent people? And let you do the same? Catra, how is that love? I’ve tried so damn hard to get you to leave that place and be happy with me. I know you’re a good person and I know you can’t be happy there!”

 

“It’s not up to you to decide what’s good for me, “ Catra snarled.

 

“Well, maybe not, Catra, but what else can I fucking do?”

 

The words hung heavy between them, tinging the silence with an air of defeat and regret. All Catra could look at was Adora’s broken face, lips pursed in an angry frown and eyes welled up with tears. She sensed that she’d gone too far this time, cut too deep. She realized that this was never what she wanted. “Adora-”

 

“Don’t waste your breath,” the princess spat, turning on her heel. 

 

Those were her last words. The next second, she’d slammed the door, leaving Catra’s cold cell behind her. 

 

Catra pushed her tray of food away from her, appetite gone. She curled up on her bed forlornly, settling in for a night of uneasy sleep. 

 

The next morning, when the door to her room creaked open, Catra shot out of bed, apology on her tongue.

 

But it wasn’t Adora at her door. No, it was that other princess, Glimmer, bringing her her food, stone-faced and almost intimidating. Catra hesitantly took the food, wolfing it down as quickly as possible before returning her tray. Glimmer immediately turned to leave.

 

“Wait!” Catra cried after her.

 

Glimmer turned an icy glare towards the prisoner. “What?” She ground out.

 

“Can you just,” Catra flattened her ears against her head, biting her lip. “Tell Adora I’m sorry?”

 

Glimmer looked Catra up and down appraisingly. “Fine,” she finally agreed. “But listen up. For whatever reason, Adora has faith in you, Catra. She sees good in you. And I trust her. But if you keep making her cry I will not hesitate to send you back to the Horde with a missing limb or two. Clear?”

 

Catra nodded vigorously, wiping sweat from her forehead as Glimmer left. For someone so innocent looking, she could be terrifying.

 

Catra spent the rest of her day anxiously hoping Adora would come back and talk to her. At noon the door opened again, and once again she leapt up with excitement, only to find that this time it was that Bow kid smiling at her apologetically, lunch in hand. Catra groaned and picked at the meal while the kid tried to make small talk that she honestly really couldn’t give two shits about. When he was gone she dramatically threw herself onto her bed. Emotionally and physically exhausted, she drifted off to sleep not long after. 

 

A familiar, soothing voice woke her. “Catra?”

 

Catra shot up, practically catapulting herself out of bed. “Adora!”

 

Adora looked no better than Catra felt. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her hair was frizzy and tangled. She was uncharacteristically slouched over, as if she didn’t even have the energy to stand straight. “I have your dinner,” she mumbled, tray in hand.

 

Catra gulped, unsure of what to say. She quietly took her food and set it to the side. She opened her mouth and was just about to speak when Adora broke the silence for her.

 

“I’m tired, Catra. I’m tired of things being like this between us. I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to Shadow Weaver enough for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting. But I don’t have anything else to give you, Catra. Nothing but apologies.”

 

Catra shook her head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I assumed the worst of you for no damn good reason, in the face of years of friendship. I was so blinded by jealousy that I couldn’t see how much you cared about me.” Her voice was hoarse as she blinked back tears, thinking about what she’d done. 

 

Adora gave her a weak smile. “We’ve both made a lot of mistakes, haven’t we?”

 

Catra nodded, laughing wetly. “But maybe we can start over. Adora, I don’t give a fuck about the Horde. I just wanted to prove I was strong and that I didn’t need you. But I do. And now… I just want to stay close to you.”

 

Adora took a deep breath and advanced towards the iron bars of Catra’s cell. She stripped off the grey glove on her right hand, giving Catra just a peek of the mark she’d last seen what seemed like an eternity ago. 

 

“Give me your hand,” she said, gesturing to the slot they’de been passing food through. Catra nodded dumbly, taking off her own glove and sticking it through palm side up. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the spark of electricity that raced up her arm as Adora laced their hands together, mark to mark. 

 

“I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried,” Adora murmured, eyes crinkled in a soft smile. “But don’t worry,” she added. “I’m not.”

 

Catra was already practically melting at this point, an ecstatic purr rising in her throat. But when Adora leaned down and pressed a soft, trembling kiss to the mark, she honest-to-God whimpered, heart beating out of her chest. 

 

“Adora-a”, she whined, feeling the other girl’s smile against her hand.

 

“What?” 

 

“I want… “ Catra trailed off, gulping. 

 

Adora, ever up for a challenge, rose back to Catra’s eye level. “You want what?” She pressed. 

 

That was it. Catra grabbed Adora’s jacket and yanked her forward until her face was against the cell. “I think you know exactly what I want,” she breathed, before closing the distance between and softly brushing their lips together. Adora hummed in approval and pressed more firmly against Catra, bringing her a hand up to barely cup her face through the bars. A loud purr rumbled in Catra’s chest and Adora broke away laughing.

 

“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out between giggles. “But your purr tickled!” 

 

Catra rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Well, you’d better get used to it,” she drawled. “I don’t know if I can help myself around you.”

 

Adora, with some difficulty, composed herself and intertwined their fingers once more. “I’m going to get you out of that cell,” she stated in that typical Adora-way. “And then I’m going to kiss you properly.”

 

“Looking forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I'm so tired
> 
> She-Ra has taken over my life
> 
> Hope you enjoy this hahahaha
> 
> Feedback is always always appreciated


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